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Ridley Tatum Ryder, III aka RIP
'Ridley Tatum Ryder, III. aka RIP RYDER' Height: 5'11 Weight: 195 # Hair: light brown with blond streaks Eyes: Amber green DOB: 12/19/1985 MBTI: ENTP Zodiac: Sagittarius “Rydin’ with RIP” Video Blog interview.. By Monica Scott EXTERIOR (late afternoon): Interviewer and interviewee are sitting at a bistro table in a breezy portico off St. George Street in beautiful Historic downtown St. Augustine, Florida. (Close up of Ms. Scott for Introduction) : Good afternoon, and welcome to “Monica Matters”. I’m Monica Scott, a student at Flagler College. Today, I bring you a rare treat! With us, today, is RIP Ryder, the notorious man behind RIP Rydes Hearse Ghost tours of St. Augustine. If you’ve visited Old Town in the past 10 years, you’ve likely seen, heard or been nearly maimed by one of his hearses; maybe you’ve even survived one of his tours. Let’s welcome the Ghost-Host himself. (PAN OUT for MASTER SHOT, showing Monica seated next to the rakishly handsome RIP dressed in his basic uniform: skater pants and a T-shirt saying "I make Ghost Hunting Look Good!"). : (managing a pleasant smile) We appreciate you meeting with us today. I know you’re a, uh, very BUSY man. RIP. That’s an interesting name. Is that your given name? (with an enticing smile) Well, actually Claire… It’s not. I was born Ridley Tatum Ryder, III. : Um, pardon me? What did you say? : (leaning forward, the setting sun dancing off his blondish spikes and glinting in his impish amber eyes) I said my full name is Ridley Tatum Ryder, III : (mildly flustered) No. I mean, you called me Claire. I’m Monica. My name’s Monica Scott. : (his smile twisting to a sheepish grin as he lit a cigarette) Of course it is. Monica CLAIRE Scott, right? Junior Journalism Major from Jacksonville… Where everyone calls you Claire. : (continues hesitantly, disturbed that her subject clearly researched her, as well) Uh, yeah. Sure. Whatever. Moving on! You’re quite knowledgeable about St. Augustine’s history. Did you grow up here? : (leaning back in his seat, bracing his well-muscled, copiously tattooed arms behind his head) Nah. The Left coast. In Sunny San Diego, California, where the beaches are as gorgeous as the women... But, I must say… You Florida girls are wicked Hot. That’s why it’s called the Sunshine State. : (The countless rumors and warnings she’d heard crowds her mind as RIP’s tiger eyes travel up her long legs) So, uh, tell us about your family. What were they like? : (his play-boy smile flattens) They were awesome, and I miss them. : Were? Oh, I’m sorry. What happened? : Another story for another day. : (narrowing her eyes to study her notes) With all your exploits, “paranormal” and otherwise, you’ve become a legendary character around here. If you could meet a legendary character from any novel, who would it be, and why? : (smirking) Easy! Hannibal Lecter. I hear he has a killer recipe for fava beans. : (pausing to consider his potential psychopathic tendencies before continuing) Umm. Okay… If you could compare yourself to a character from another novel, who would it be? : (without hesitation) James Bond. : (surprised, and relieved) Why? : (with mock indignance) WHY, you ask? Isn’t it obvious? (lighting a cigarette before tossing the lighter onto the table with mild annoyance) Rude. : (regains her stiff, professional demeanor) Back to the interview. Tell us about the world of RIP Ryder. : (his dangerous smile returns, thawing her icy resolve a smidge) We’re lucky enough to live in a city where history is under our every footstep. Ghosts and legends surround us. Few locations in America are this supernaturally dense, if you know what I mean. : (incredulous) So you really believe all that? Y’know. About the ghosts? : (soberly) Every word. You don’t? : (scoffs) Hardly. Call me a skeptic, but I find your stories to be outrageous and Unbelievable. Clearly your tales are exaggerated, as I’m sure many of your other “claims” are. Good for you, we always have fresh tourists to fleece. : (clears his throat to swallow a laugh) That’s quite a specific opinion to derive from heresay. Perhaps you care to reserve judgment until you’ve experienced the RIP Ryde firsthand. Tonight, if you wish. (with an inviting half nod and an eyebrow wiggle that waggled his piercings) Complimentary, of course. : (gulps her sangria in response to his unmistakable invitation) Next question! You’re well known as a party-hound. (uttering under her breath) Among other things… (resumes normal conversation) What is the strangest situation you've ever found yourself in?” : (leaning back casually) Ah, yes. I remember it vividly. I suspect I may’ve been involved in a threesome with a clown, and a hermaphroditic midget. All I remember is waking up naked, floating on my back in the middle of a motel pool. It’s all a bit fuzzy. I shudder at the memory of it to this very day, Claire. … To. This. DAY. : (flabbergasted) Wait. You’re not serious, are you? : (looking at the butt of his cigarette in his hand, stubbing it out, and exhaling his cloud of indifference) Only one way to find out… : (drains her sangria glass; signals for refill) You’re not seriously suggesting I go on one of your tours… I have better Ways to spend my time than participating in your ridiculousness. I’ve heard plenty about your “private tours”. : (challenging her playfully) It’s cool. Not everyone can handle it. Just thought you might want the real story. But keep living in your little bubble, Claire. Maybe one day, if you’re lucky, you’ll see. : (with a hiccup, leaning forward to point an accusatory finger at him) See what? Want to know what I see? (resting her chin in her palm, unable to look away from his hypnotic eyes) I see an enterprising man using his imagination and charisma to capitalize on the gullibility of the masses. Tourists and skanks may believe your web of lies, but I, Mr. Ryder, am immune to your charms. (realizing that even she didn’t believe her words) Well, I don’t believe you, and I DON’T believe in ghosts. : (with a sizzling promise in his eyes) Gimme one night. I’ll make you a believer. (camera pans out to show Monica take RIP’s hand. With a glance over her shoulder, she follows him to his awaiting hearse for a night she’ll never forget) __INDEX__ __NEWSECTIONLINK__ Category:Paranormal Romance, Romance, Fiction, Ghosts, Mystery Category:Paranormal Category:Romance Category:Paranormal romance Category:Fiction Category:Speculative fiction Category:Ghosts Category:Mystery